Crazy Sunshine
by Nanaki BH
Summary: [RenoxRufus] The words just seem to escape me.


Disclaimer: _Final Fantasy VII_ and all associated materials are property of Squaresoft.

Crazy Sunshine  
By: Nanaki BH

What's there to say about the person I love the most? Well, what's there to write about, at least? I can't stand talking like some sappy, love-sick idiot. I'm really just not that kind of guy. I love him with my whole heart; with all of me. Every single bit of my heart is dedicated and devoted to him but… I hate saying it out loud. I have no problem loving him and I don't have a problem admitting it. It's just that whenever I open my mouth to tell him how much I love him, it comes out sounding so dumb. I think that's why I refuse to say it.

I don't want what we have to sound stupid. I can't do it any justice; not when I speak. I hope he feels it. Every moment I'm with him I try to be the nicest person I can. It's easy to do around him, but normally... Ah, well, if you know me then you'd know that I'm more than a little… bad. The world has made me what I am but he's made me _who_ I am. I don't know how I could even express in words my gratitude for what he's given me. And, I'm not just talking about the place I live at now or the money I make working for Shinra. I mean what's inside of me now. I used to feel hollow. I filled my life with meaningless things. At the end of the day, I was empty. All of those things I tried to hold onto never lasted and left as soon as I opened my eyes the next day.

He stays. He's with me all of the time. And when somebody, even when they're not really with you, can make you feel like they _are_, how do you thank them? How do you tell them that?

All of that and more filled my tired, sleep deprived mind as I sat at the desk in my room, clutching my pencil. The page looks like a terrible mess of scratches and eraser marks. I stopped throwing the paper away after the twentieth sheet found its way to the trash bin. I wanted to write down in words, or at least try to, the things I feel for him. I wanted some kind of proof; if not as a gift to him, then as some kind of proof to me. His birthday was coming up, though, and I absolutely had to give him a gift. What kind of a guy would I be if I didn't? God, but what do you give the guy who has literally everything he could ever dream of?

More of what he already has?

It was an idea; a working one, I guess. Unfortunately, with my kind of schedule, there was no way I could just go out and buy him something. I looked around my place and _did _come up with one thing I could give him that belonged to me. It was a shirt I found buried somewhere underneath a pile of other clothes; one that he commented on whenever I wore it. I hated it. I hated wearing it. Eventually, it disappeared and I hadn't found it (or didn't want to) until I dragged it out. He loved it and I never quite understood why. It was old and smelled like beer all the time – even after washing it. But whenever I wore it, he commented on how he loved how it smelled, how it felt under his hands when he leaned on my chest. So it was soft. That's all it had going for it.

I was definitely giving it to him. There was still so much more to gift-giving than shirt-giving, though. I couldn't just give him something of mine and say "There. It's done." I couldn't be _that_ cheap. That's why I sat down with pencil in hand, tapping it against my forehead as if I were trying to jar the ideas from my head. I must've been horribly uncreative for it to be taking so long. Maybe I was just expecting the words to jump onto the page for me. Right. Nothing's quite that simple. Nothing ever is for me.

He's got to be the only simple thing in my life. He's there and I act like he's just some sort of fixture sometimes. The most important people in our lives can go by without feeling appreciated and I hoped to God that he knew I loved him. I loved him more than… than anything. He was more than anything to me.

All at once, the words came from my pencil fluidly, as if my heart finally decided to pick up the pencil.

"I sit alone sometimes  
Just to clear my mind  
And think, "What'd it be like without you?"  
Honestly,  
Promise you won't tell  
It's just that when I think like that

I can't

The words just seem to escape me  
Crazy sunshine  
Flooding my mind  
Keeping the sorrow away  
Sunshine like your face,  
Your smile,  
Your everything to me

A place without you  
Just isn't a place with me  
So, my sunshine;  
My love that rises with me every morning,  
Don't fade"

Once my pencil finished rounding the very last letter, it slipped from my fingers and clattered audibly against the page. I smiled.

It was everything I wanted it to be and more. My only hope was to be that he would understand it. I reached up and grabbed the roll of ribbon I had purchased earlier in the day to wrap the gift I would later buy. That didn't happen but I wasn't going to let it go to waste. I turned and took the shirt off of the back of the chair and folded it as neatly as I could (which wasn't that neatly) and folded the poem up, too. I placed it on top of the shirt and, after tearing off a sizeable piece of ribbon with my teeth, tied them both up together. That was it. It was finally done.

I had wrote that poem all at once and read it only once. I didn't need to read it again. I knew every word of it by heart. It was written in every kiss I placed upon his lips.

Author's Notes: That was fucking beautiful. I don't know what else I should put in my author's notes now. I stayed up really late writing it and read every word out loud progressively as I wrote it. It was "27, overflow" for my 30kisses claim on Livejournal. I think I was inspired this time. I feel a little like Reno in this one; I can't tell my girlfriend I love her without feeling like an absolute idiot. I'm terrible at it! My writing can usually say what I want to a billion times better than what I can say out loud. I look at Reno as being the same kind of person. I hope you enjoyed it! Feedback's much loved!


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